


Catharsis

by orphan_account



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Denial of Feelings, Hand Jobs, Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Torture, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Sexual Assault, lots of angst and pain, way more angsty than the summary makes it out to be, whipping with a belt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-15
Updated: 2017-03-24
Packaged: 2018-10-05 21:18:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10317161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: In Camelot, homosexuality is punishable by death. One day, Arthur finds a porn magazine in Merlin's room, and everything goes to hell. Slow burn. Merthur.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> OK THING: IDK IF THEY HAD PORN MAGAZINES BACK IN THE DAY. UH. I KNOW THEY ARENT THE GLOSSY TYPE BUT I DUNNO.FUCK. THE PREMISE OF THIS PLOT IS SCREWED. WELL ENJOY ANYWAY?
> 
> Update: I'm going to edit chapter 1, and change magazine to something more believable from the Middle Ages. I haven't decided exactly what yet, but you don't have to re-read the chapter to understand what happens in the story. It will more or less be the same, except magazine may be wood carving, or erotic literature, etc.

In Camelot, there were 3 unspoken rules:

No magic  
No treason  
No homosexuality

Merlin regularly broke all three.

He was born with magic. It was a part of him, kind of like the way some people had a beauty mark, or other people had red hair. Magic hummed through his veins, connected him to the earth, the sky, the seas. Just by existing, just by _being_ , he was committing the first crime.

By default, hiding his magic was probably treason too, so he was already breaking the second law. And then, if that wasn’t bad enough, Merlin was gay. He was very gay. He had tried to deny it for a long time, not wanting to have another part of himself he would have to hide. But he couldn’t even have a wank unless he was thinking of a boy, so it was a hopeless effort.

Out of all three rules, if Merlin was to get caught, he expected it to be for magic. One day, he’d have to save Arthur in front of hundreds of people, and he’d have no choice but to wield his power. He was prepared for that, worried for that. It was rule number three that never crossed his radar. Until now.

“What is this?” Arthur asked.

Merlin stared at him, feeling his eyes start to shine with tears. He stood there, blood flowing to his cheeks.

“Merlin,” Arthur said, slower this time. “Answer me.”

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing!” Arthur tossed the magazine, and it hit the wall of Merlin’s room with a thud, before sliding to the ground. Merlin watched it, hating it, wishing he’d never touched it. “Can we please forget about it?” Merlin whispered, his voice hoarse. He couldn’t even look Arthur in the eye, but he could feel the anger radiating from the Prince. For a moment, there was silence. The tap dripped from the kitchen. Gaius was out working. Merlin had invited Arthur in, and they’d been laughing over something. Merlin hadn’t even noticed - hadn’t even _cared_ about the magazine lying under his clothes and books, until Arthur saw it. Merlin was usually more careful about these things, but it just mattered so little to him. He’d gotten it under the table. He shouldn’t have ever went near it.

Arthur took a step forward. Merlin studied his brown boots. His hands shook.

“It’s a crime,” Arthur said. He took another step forward. “Merlin, it’s a _crime_!” This time, his voice broke with desperation.

Merlin chanced a glance upwards, and immediately wished he hadn’t. Because there was anger, sure. Arthur had a lot of aggressive passion, like he always did. But in his eyes, there was panic. Clear, unhinged panic. Merlin couldn’t stand it.

“You can send me to the dungeons,” Merlin said. “It’s okay.”

“I can’t just - it’s a crime.” Arthur was pacing now. “But if you’re not - is it yours?”

There was a hint of pleading in his tone. Merlin knew Arthur wanted him to deny it.

Merlin swallowed. His eyelashes fluttered. “I don’t want to lie to you.”

There was another extremely long silence. People who were gay got executed. Ironically, a wave of sunlight came in through Merlin’s window, dotting the ground golden. Merlin felt the need for thunder and rain. He felt as if he would vomit, and could almost taste the bile in the back of his throat.

He felt dirty and wrong. Arthur was looking at him like he was dirty and wrong.

“Why?” Arthur finally asked, eyes closed, a pained expression on his face.

“I don’t know,” Merlin said. “I was born like this.”

“You can’t be born with it,” Arthur said. He made it sound like a disease.

“It’s not like I want it!” Merlin said. “Do you think I want to be executed? I want to like girls! I tried!”

“Why didn’t you try harder?” Arthur snapped.

“I can’t! Arthur, I just can’t-“ Every part of Merlin was vibrating from head to toe. He squeezed his eyes shut as tears burned. He knew Arthur had no choice but to report him to the King. That was his duty. Any homosexuality was to be reported _immediately_. Uther was afraid it would spread like a virus.

But if he got executed, who would protect Arthur? The world started to close in. His destiny was to protect Arthur, and bring peace to Camelot. And he’d screwed it all up because of his stupid dirty self. Merlin felt black dots simmer in his vision, and he sat down on the edge of the bed, trying not to pass out. He _had_ to protect Arthur. That was his job. What was he going to do? There was no way that he could get out of this. But _Arthur_. It was his destiny-

Merlin felt Arthur’s hand on his shoulder, and flinched. He peered up at him, black still at the edge of his vision. He was surprised Arthur would even risk touching him.

“Don’t cry,” Arthur said, voice low.

Was he crying? He hadn’t even realized. Merlin kind of wanted to laugh hysterically, but he figured adding _mentally unstable_ to his list of diseases wasn’t a great idea. Hot tears spread down his cheeks and down his neck. He could taste salt in his mouth. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to.”

Arthur looked like he also wanted to throw himself off a cliff. Merlin didn’t know if that was a consolation or not.

“I’m not going to let you be executed,” Arthur said.

Merlin looked at him, squinting through his tears. Arthur’s blue eyes stared back at him, bright and forlorn. “You’re not going to report it?”

“Yes. I’m going to report it.”

“Then it won’t matter. Your father will have me hanged.”

“I’m going to twist the story.” Arthur spoke through his teeth, quiet anger still flowing outward. “I’m going to say that you were feeling like you might be gay. My father has a treatment program for people who seek help.”

“A treatment program?” Merlin echoed. He looked unsure. “I don’t - It works?”

“It works most of the time,” Arthur said.

“What do they do?” Merlin said quietly.

“I don’t know,” Arthur said. “I want them to cure you.” He looked desperate.

Merlin didn’t say anything. He stared at his knuckles, which were white from being clenched so hard. His nails dug into his palms. A treatment program. He wouldn’t have to worry about being gay anymore. He wouldn’t be breaking all three rules, just two. And he wouldn’t die. He’d be able to continue protecting Arthur. He glanced up at Arthur through wet eyelashes, and Arthur looked away, staring at the ground uncomfortably.

Of course. It would be weird now. Merlin was gay and Arthur was a male.

Merlin couldn’t even blame him. Merlin didn’t _like_ Arthur, but sometimes, in the mornings, when Arthur was still asleep, shirtless, the sun beaming down over him, Merlin stared, and admired, felt lust simmer in his stomach. He always _hated_ himself for even having those thoughts.

Merlin closed his eyes, a headache pounding against his skull. He was going to be treated. He was going to get better.

They sat like that for a long time: the sun warming their backs, Arthur’s heavy presence on the bed, Merlin quelling his tears and staring quietly at the flooring. He wondered if anything would be the same between them, even if he got cured. Would Arthur stop touching him in normal ways now? Would he distance himself?

Merlin’s stomach turned. He was so tightly-wound up in his thoughts that he jumped when Arthur stood up.

“I have training to get to,” Arthur said.

“Oh. Right.” Merlin was aware his voice was shaky. “You better get to that. You want to stay fit, yeah?”

Arthur didn’t laugh. He just closed his eyes tightly like he wanted someone to set Merlin and himself both on fire. Then, without a word, he walked across the room, and closed the door shut behind him, leaving Merlin sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at his fingernails, wondering if he should have ever been born.

**XXX**

When Gaius returned, Merlin didn’t say anything. He knew he had to bring up what had happened, but every time he tried to say it, he choked on his own words. How was he supposed to tell Gaius that Arthur had found a gay porn magazine in his room? Sweat grew on the back of his neck, and his hands trembled as he poured tea for the both of them.

Gaius stared at him. “Is something the matter?”

Merlin rubbed the back of his neck. “No. I’m fine. Why do you ask?”

“You’ve been very quiet.”

“I’m just - Arthur was just being annoying today.” He spit out the lie like it burned him.

“That’s not out of the ordinary.” Gaius raised a single eyebrow, and Merlin felt tears thicken once more. He was determined not to cry again. His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat, and he took a sip of his tea. Even ginger and cinnamon couldn’t soothe him. _You have to tell him,_ Merlin thought. _He’s going to find out. I'm going to have to go to the treatment program and I can't hide that._

“Did you go see the dragon again?” Gaius asked.

“No, it’s nothing. It’s nothing.” Merlin rubbed his hands together. _If only that was it_.

Gaius continued to stare at him. Then he leaned forward, narrowing his eyes, and Merlin felt transparent. “You know,” Gaius said slowly, and his voice was filled with age and wisdom. “Secrets eat away at you. Sometimes talking to other people can help.” The words settled over Merlin’s bones, and he felt even _more_ ashamed, if possible.

“Gaius,” he said, and his voice broke.

“What is it?” Gaius said, just a hint of impatience in his voice, concern etched over his face. For a moment, Merlin held his breath, let the fear overtake his eyes, and he knew what Gaius thought he was going to say: _They found out about my magic. He knows_. Instead:

“I’m gay,” Merlin whispered. There was a long pause. “And Arthur knows.”

Merlin waited. And waited. He waited for Gaius to say something, but there was silence on the other end. Merlin stared at the table, eyes blurring. _Please say something_. The sound of the clock ticking felt unusually loud, and Merlin’s own heart pounded like a drum in his ears. _Please say something_. The silence stretched on so long that Merlin wondered if time had frozen in place.

“I know.”

“What?” Merlin’s voice quivered. He abruptly looked up.

“I had a feeling.”

Merlin stared at Gaius, and for some reason, the world still felt like it was crumbling. “And you don’t hate me? You didn’t - you never treated me different.”

“To be quite honest, I was hoping you weren’t. I didn’t want you to have to deal with more than you were already dealing with.”

“I can’t change it.” Merlin’s eyes shone under the lights of the kitchen. “I tried. I don’t know why I’m like this.”

Gaius still hadn’t touched the tea Merlin had made, and absurdly, Merlin worried it would go cold. He laughed quietly to himself, and Gaius stared at him as if he had lost all the screws in his head. “Sorry,” Merlin said, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. “It’s just - I’m just. I don’t know. I’m clearly very messed up.”

“No,” Gaius said sternly. “Don’t ever say that.”

“Gaius, I’m a screw up. Maybe magic helps people, so it’s not all that bad, but liking other _boys_? It’s not normal!”

“It doesn’t harm anyone,” Gaius said. “I don’t think it changes who you are as a person.”

“I’m gay,” Merlin said. “It’s not supposed to be that way. Everyone knows it.”

Gaius didn’t say anything for a moment, stirring his tea. “How did Arthur react?”

“He didn’t - I don’t know. He probably hates me. He’s not executing me though, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Very clearly, relief overtook Gaius’ features, and he took his first sip of tea. Merlin laughed internally again. He wondered if he’d gone mad. After a moment, Merlin said, “He’s putting me in a treatment program.”

Gaius’ eyes flashed. “What?”

“I don’t know. A treatment program?”

“To turn you straight?”

“Yes. Something like that.”

“I don’t think you can turn someone straight.”

Merlin blinked, and shrugged. “He said it works most of the time.”

“What are they going to do to you?” For some reason, the way Gaius said it, Merlin sensed danger. His insides coiled and tenseness spread all over his body. He hadn’t thought about the actual program. All he knew was that he wanted to be fixed and he needed to protect Arthur. “I’m not sure,” Merlin said. “Arthur doesn’t know the details or anything. He’s never - he’s probably never had to deal with something like this.” He paused. “But it’s better than being dead.” There was a sound agreement between the both of them that an alive Merlin was better than a dead one.

“You know,” Gaius said. “Maybe one day, when Arthur is King, this rule will change too.”

Merlin stood up, pushing his chair in. His smile was bitter and acidic. “Even I don't believe I’m normal. Why would he ever change his mind?”

“You’ve been told it was abnormal since you were a child,” Gaius said. “It’s embedded in you to hate yourself. It doesn't mean it’s true or just.”

Merlin bit his lower lip, trying not to cry all over again. The topic of being gay was not one he’d ever talked to anyone about. He didn’t like to. He hated himself for it. He felt like someone had inserted a bug into his veins, and now he couldn’t get rid of it no matter how hard he tried. _Please_ , he thought, thinking back to the treatment program. _Please get rid of the bug._

When he looked back up, Gaius was staring at him with a sad smile, and Merlin wanted to get rid of that too.

**XXX**

Merlin stared at the fireplace. The flames danced and flickered - a mirage of orange and black. He could see his own reflection in the fire, the hazy edges of his face. Licking his lips, he held the rolled up magazine tightly in his hands. It was time to start new. It was time to be straight. It was time to be normal.

The sun was setting. Merlin was alone. With quivering hands, he threw the magazine into the pit of fire. Immediately, it was scorched and swallowed alive in heat. Merlin stayed there and watched as it turned black, to char, until the pieces were nothing. Strangely, Merlin wanted to cry, even though the magazine had caused him nothing but pain.

It was like he had lost a part of himself.

“But you are new now,” Merlin said softly to himself. “You can protect Arthur and you can marry a girl.”

He wasn’t new yet - _not yet_. But this was the first step. Merlin was ready. He stared at the flames for a long time, before he got to his feet. When he stood up, his heart climbed to his throat. Arthur was standing at his doorway, looking at him, and at the fire, and at what he had just burned.

“Arthur,” Merlin said. “Did you need something?”

“I just want to let you know.” Arthur cleared his throat. “I’m reporting it tomorrow.”

Merlin nodded, eyes trained on the floor. He had expected that. Arthur opened his mouth, and Merlin thought he was going to say something - something that would repair the mess between them. Instead, he just nodded at the ashen remains, and turned around, footsteps fading against the crackle of the fire. Merlin swallowed, staring at the empty doorway. Then he slid down against his couch, drawing his knees to his chest.

And Merlin did not cry. But he watched the fire until the sun went down, until the moon came up, until dawn arose, wishing he could somehow erase his existence just as he had done with the magazine.


	2. Chapter 2

Arthur woke up in the morning wanting to  die. 

He stared at the ceiling of his room for a long time, not moving an inch from his bed. With a side glance, he noticed he didn’t have a breakfast. Merlin hadn’t woken him up. It was probably for the better. Arthur might do something he regretted if he saw Merlin’s face. He could imagine it clearly: Merlin, standing at the doorway, playing with the cuffs of his sleeves, eyes bright and blue, a questioning look on his face. 

How was he supposed to hate _Merlin?_

Even though Arthur gave Merlin a hard time, everyone knew Merlin was one of the sweetest people around. The knights loved him. The women loved him. Even Arthur had a woefully big soft spot for his servant, one that was first on his _do-not-ever-admit-to-anyone_ list. But Merlin was gay. 

Arthur twitched on the bed, and felt a headache rise. Today was going to end badly. He could already feel it. 

It took longer than usual to get himself ready, because he was used to Merlin doing everything. He could have called for another servant, but he didn’t want to explain himself. He didn’t want to say: “ _You see, father, the servant who has been dressing me, touching me, stirring my baths up, is homosexual, and into men._ ” His father would probably throw him into an intense cleansing ritual. 

Arthur shuddered. He wasn’t looking forward to telling him later in the day.

After getting ready, the rest of the day proceeded just as badly. Arthur shattered his knights in training, his face flushed from exertion, his teeth gritted. When they’d done the usual rounds, he’d lifted his sword up and said, “Who’s ready for another round?” All of the knights just stared at him like he’d grown fifty heads, and Gwaine mumbled, “He’s probably just grumpy because Merlin didn’t show up today.” 

“I heard that,” Arthur said, too quietly for anyone to hear. He watched as the knights walked away, murmuring softly. His entire physique ached and he knew he bore a few bruises, but he needed to let out further rage. He spent the rest of the afternoon fighting against a dummy. By the time the sun was weaning, his body was on fire. 

He barely managed to peel off his armour. He wished Merlin was here. He was too tired to draw his own bath. 

When he had finished bathing and dressing, Arthur stood and stared out his window. He could see all of Camelot from this view. She was beautiful: the peaks of the houses, the winding roads and the large, dense forests. The sun a giant orange setting lowly beyond the mountains. Arthur closed his eyes. It would all be okay.

This was the right thing to do. He wasn’t betraying his father, not _completely,_ but he was also keeping Merlin safe.

With a final glance at the city, Arthur stepped out of his room, and headed for the King’s rooms. 

**XXX**

 

Arthur’s knuckles were white, clenched against the end of the table. “We’re not _executing_ him.”

“He’s breaking the law.”

“No! No. He’s seeking help. He came to me, asking what to do. I suggest a treatment program.”

“Normally, I would agree.” Uther looked tired, a stack of parchments on his desk. He folded his hands together. “But he’s your servant. I can’t have him around you. I don’t want it getting to your head.”

“Look,” Arthur said, voice edging. “He’s been my servant for over a year now. I’m fine. I’m perfectly fine.”

Uther stood up, frown deepening. “That’s the thing. I’m not so sure you’re fine.”

What? Arthur stared at Uther, blinking, and once again was hit by the exhaustion of the day. He probably shouldn’t have overtrained. He just wanted to climb into his bed and never wake up. He thought this would be _easy._ But Uther was staring at him with a strange look that Arthur didn’t even want to begin to decipher.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You don’t show interest in many women. I’ve noticed.”

“I - I - father, this is nonsense!”

“Is it? Maybe your manservant has been a bad influence on you.”

“I didn’t even know how he felt until _yesterday._ ”

“Still. We don’t know how the disease spreads. I’m worried, Arthur.”

Arthur could not believe he was hearing this. But he suddenly understood. The one woman he felt most attracted to was Gwen, and he’d kept that a secret from his father. As far as Uther knew, Arthur had no affections for women. He’d been so against any woman his father suggested “union” with because of _Gwen._ But his father -

His father thought it was Merlin. 

Arthur’s voice trembled with underpinned emotion. “You think I’m _gay_?” 

“I don’t think you are,” Uther said. “But your actions have been worrisome. Especially… you always go so far to protect this servant.” 

“He’s saved my life more than once.”

“Now we know why,” Uther said bitterly. 

Arthur felt eerily like he was going to cry. “It was never like that,” he said, voice choked. “It’s because he’s loyal.” 

Uther didn’t seem to believe him, and he pressed an ink stamp against one of his parchments, looking deep in thought. Arthur stood at his desk, completely drained. He couldn’t let Merlin be executed. He could _not._ But if he argued against it, it would only fuel Uther further: _See? You care too much for this servant boy! He’s infected you!_

The sun had gone fully down now. It was dark in the room. 

Arthur tried one last time. “He will not be my servant until he is fully treated. I won’t go near him.”

Uther raised his brow. Miraculously, the next words out of his mouth were: “Well, I suppose if he’s fully cleansed, it cannot do harm. The treatment must be extra thorough, however.”

Arthur took a deep, shaky breath, and tried not to look too horrifyingly relieved. “I’m glad you see it my way,” Arthur said, just managing to stay composed. Uther nodded, returning to his paperwork. Arthur took that as his dismissal. As he turned to leave for the door, Uther called his name: “But Arthur,” he said.

Arthur paused. 

“It would do you good to get a girlfriend. Rumours spread fast.”

He couldn’t say anything about Gwen, so Arthur nodded, awkwardly, and ran out of there like he was being chased by fire.

 

**XXX**

The next day Arthur felt unreasonably self-conscious, so he made out with Gwen behind the stables. _Yes,_ Arthur thought, as he strode into the armoury room. _I am definitely into women._ He could still taste her lips, the smell of her hair against his nose. If his father thought he was gay, it was because his father didn’t know what he’d been hiding. 

It said nothing about Arthur. 

Arthur was in quite a good mood, going as far as _humming_ as he attached his armour. 

Leon glanced at him, and raised a brow. “Hey, have you seen Merlin? I haven’t seen him around.”

Merlin. He didn’t want to hear that name. It made his stomach drop instantly. “No,” Arthur said, colder than he meant to. 

“No?” Leon echoed. “Didn’t you see him this morning?”

Arthur wanted to throw something. Why did people keep asking about Merlin? Merlin was just a goddamn servant. Except, Arthur knew, deep inside, that all of the knights cared about Merlin, just as _he_ secretly did. The boy had a strange tendency to make you fond of him. Maybe it was because Merlin was so pure in his kindness. 

Arthur hated thinking about Merlin.

“Does it matter?” Arthur snapped. 

Leon raised his hands, and exchanged a glance with Elyan. They both shared questioning looks. Arthur had half a mind not to send them both on a dangerous blood-spilling quest into the dead of the night. 

Ignoring their concerned looks, Arthur headed out into the fields for another day of knight training. The weather was nice out - the sky a warm, sweeping blue, and the sun a golden coin shining down on them. Arthur squinted into the brightness, and smiled. Today was a good day. Arthur was determined to make it one.

Except halfway through battling it out with Gwaine, the dark-haired knight said, “Where’s Merlin been? I haven’t seen him in awhile.”

“He’s fine!” Arthur said, thrusting forward.

Gwaine sidestepped him. “He’s the only tolerable person around here.”

“Are you insulting me?” Arthur said, feeling more enraged than he should be.

“You know I don't care about your noble status.” Gwaine winked, but his lips thinned out. “Seriously, where’s Merlin?”

“He’s helping Gaius,” Arthur lied. 

“And you’re letting him?” Gwaine laughed, and Arthur wanted to kill him. Intending to do just that, Arthur suddenly thrust his sword forward, flipping Gwaine around his neck, and pointing the sword to the flesh of his throat. Gwaine seemed unaffected, eyes widening. “Speaking of Merlin.” Gwaine wrenched out of his grip, and waved. “Merlin!” 

Arthur froze, and felt his blood go cold, even in the warmth of the sun. Because there, at the edges of the field, was Merlin, treading past the streets. He wasn’t going in their direction, but when Gwaine waved, Arthur saw Merlin hesitate. 

_Please don’t come here._

Arthur prayed for this, and for a moment, it seemed as if Merlin was going to keep walking. But then Gwaine screamed his name again, _fucking Gwaine,_ and Merlin started to come over. Arthur started to sweat in his armour. He didn’t know why he was so nervous. Maybe it was because he didn’t want his father to catch him with Merlin. 

But Uther rarely came out to the training fields. No. Arthur was… Arthur just couldn’t be around Merlin right now. Merlin was _gay,_ and Arthur was repulsed, in ways he could not explain.

He busied himself through dagger practice. By the time Merlin approached them, he was intensely engrossed in piercing sharp blades into target dummies. Still, he knew Merlin had seen him, and was watching him.

In the background, he heard the hush of their voices through the clamour of training - Gwaine and Merlin talking. He heard Merlin laugh, the sound soft and careful, and Arthur missed his target by a mile. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t just ignore Merlin, not when the servant had somehow integrated himself so deeply into his life.

He paused, and picked up the dagger from the ground, heart pounding in his chest. “Say, Merlin, instead of just standing there, why don’t you make yourself useful?”

He forced his smug smile on his face, and Merlin looked at him, eyes wide, as if he expected to be hit. It took the breath out of Arthur. They just stared at each other, and Arthur felt like a sea was opening up between them, swallowing their friendship in big giant gulps. Merlin’s hands fidgeted, and his eyes had dark circles. He bit on his lower lip, and Arthur found himself staring awkwardly. 

Gwaine broke them out of their white noise. “He’s been in a terrible mood lately,” he said, clamping a hand on Merlin’s shoulder. “Probably missing you.”

“I am not,” Arthur said, but it lacked defiance.

Merlin smiled for a moment, but then it dropped away. 

“Where have you been anyway? You’re always wherever Arthur is,” Gwaine said. “You guys are like a pair.”

“We are _not_ a pair,” Arthur said, and just caught the flash of hurt in Merlin’s eyes before it disappeared. Gwaine glanced between them, and finally seemed to notice something was off. He furrowed his brows. Then winked at Merlin, and ran off to where the other knights were. Great. Just great. Now they were _alone._ He’d never been uncomfortable around Merlin until now. 

Arthur ran his gloved hand over the dagger to distract himself. “Where have you been?”

Merlin shrugged slowly. “I wasn’t sure what was supposed to happen.”

“I needed some time to think,” Arthur said. “But I’ve told my father. He’s agreed to let you do the treatment program.”

He expected relief or gratitude, but Merlin didn’t look up from the grass. “I know. I was told. It starts today.” His eyes swept up and he said anxiously, “I can’t serve you in the evenings. That’s when they do the program. I can still make breakfast and shine your armour and do all of that other stuff-“ He started rambling, and Arthur felt sick.

“Merlin. Merlin, stop.”

Merlin paused, breathless. “I can fit in all my duties. I’ll just work a bit harder.” 

“I can’t.”

Merlin’s eyes widened. “What?”

Arthur swallowed. “My father…. he doesn’t want you serving me until the treatment is done.”

There was a moment of silence. Arthur couldn’t look Merlin in the eye, so instead he found himself looking at his ears. They really were too big for his face. Arthur felt a laugh vibrate in his chest, and he thought: _This is it. I’ve gone insane. I’m laughing at Merlin’s ears while I’m hurting his feelings._

“You’re firing me?” Merlin clarified, and his voice was strong. But there was a tremble in his gaze. 

“Temporarily,” Arthur said. “I’m sure you’ll be done things soon. And you’ll be back to normal.”

Merlin rubbed his arm. “Yeah. Normal.” He quivered at the word. 

“Of course, the firing starts tomorrow,” Arthur said, even though it implicitly was supposed to start the moment Uther had told him. Minor details. “Today, you have to do all of the servant-y things you do. Like…. uh…. grab me that mace over there, will you?” Arthur knew he was prolonging their “separation” but he couldn’t help it. His words spilled out without control. He had a tendency to do that when it came to Merlin. 

He wasn’t quite sure why.

Merlin had a pleased expression on his face as he hurried over to get Arthur’s mace. For once, he didn’t make some kind of annoying remark against the order. He nearly tripped on the way back, and Arthur felt a warm smile emerge on his lips. 

Merlin really was one of a kind, even if he was a complete idiot. 

And then he went and ruined it all. 

As Merlin handed Arthur the mace, his hands fumbled, and they both reached to catch it. Suddenly Merlin’s hand was against Arthur’s hands, cold and electric. They both froze. Their eyes met and Arthur felt a drumming in his ears. 

An embarrassed flush spread across Merlin’s face. Arthur ripped his hand away. 

“Don’t touch me,” he snapped. 

The hurt across Merlin’s face was unbearable. “I’m sorry. I didn’t -“

“I don’t need anymore help,” Arthur muttered, ears still ringing with the pumping of his blood. “You’re dismissed.” 

He stalked toward the opposite side where his knights were, his eyes burning, refusing to look back. After a long ten minutes, he finally glanced to the side, but Merlin was gone, having disappeared into the city. 

Arthur managed to push aside the guilt but his heart stayed heavy for the rest of the day.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess I should put a warning henceforth: There is torture here. I'm not... like.... super graphic, but it's still graphic enough that some people might not like it. It involves whipping on the back with a belt, and hitting the palms of one's hands with a wooden stick...so if u don't like Merlin suffering, turn away now! RUN FAR AWAY FROM THIS STORY!
> 
> There's not any Arthur/Merlin interaction in this chapter, but that'll come in the next chapter! This one mainly focuses on Merlin and his first few days in the treatment program. 
> 
> Let me know if there are any inconsistencies! Thank you for reading :)

There was no light in the dungeon. 

Merlin sat on an old and wooden chair. It had been an hour since he’d been brought in. His bum was sore and Merlin shifted uncomfortably, wondering if they’d forgotten about him. The grainy ground and bars were a familiar, unpleasant sight, and Merlin stared up at the ceiling, heart stuttering in his chest. He wasn't sure what to expect.

It was a good thing. Surely, it was a good thing. He’d be cured of being gay, he could resume servant duties, protect Arthur, and _be normal._ Merlin closed his eyes. Normal. The word tasted sweet in his mouth and he craved it.

There was a jolt of footsteps on the ground. Merlin sat upright, heartbeat skipping. He watched as the shadow moved forward amongst the torches, before being illuminated by light. It was a knight, one Merlin didn’t recognize. He had a splotchy red-and-white face, and looked too _rogue_ to be noble, but he had the royal crest.

“Merlin,” the knight said. “I’m… well, you don’t need to know who I am. My only job is to deal with disgusting queers like you.”

Merlin swallowed. He should have expected the names, but he’d thought this would be… more professional? Shame burned on his face. The knight stared at him, thumbs looped around his belt, and a grin snaked onto his face. “Take off your shirt.”

“Uh, why?”

“Don’t question it. Just take it off.”

Merlin peeled off his shirt, and was surprised to find his fingers trembling. He steadied them. He stared up at the knight, blue eyes glimmering. There was an apprehensive silence, and Merlin anxiously folded his hands together. He watched as the knight unravelled his belt, slipping the leather between his fingers.

The knight slid his hands up and down the belt, as if it was the finest sword in Camelot.

Merlin followed the motion, biting his lower lip.

The knight kneeled in front of him, and Merlin choked on his own saliva, the temperature in the cold dungeons feeling impossibly hot. For a second, they stayed that way: Merlin, shirtless on the uncomfortable wooden chair, the knight kneeling before him, belt in his hands. Then, just as Merlin’s mind started to stray on the edges, the knight started rubbing.

Merlin clenched up. “W-what are you doing?”

“Quiet,” the knight said.

Was he getting a _handjob?_ Merlin gulped and pressed down on his lower lip from making a noise. The knight wasn’t very attractive, but stimulation…. was stimulation. After a few moments, the friction became too much, and Merlin felt the fabric of his breeches press tight against his crotch as he hardened. His lip was bleeding. His breaths were uneven. What _was_ this? 

All of a sudden, pain ripped across his lower back. Merlin made a high-pitched noise as searing pain spread through. Involuntarily, tears filled his eyes. “What was that for?” he barely managed to get out.

“For _that_ ,” the knight said, pointing to his boner. “We’re conditioning you.”

“But - I don’t - “

Merlin wanted to protest, wanted to say, _this isn’t even a gay thing. If a fucking baboon gave me a handjob, I’d still get a hard-on because that’s just the way it is._ He kept his mouth shut, because he knew if he spoke out of turn, the only thing that would happen was another lash to his back.

The knight was rubbing again. Merlin’s toes curled. He breathed through his nose. “I can’t-“

The next whip came faster, and harder. Merlin whimpered in pain. He didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t control it.

They knight kept doing the same thing. Again, and again, and again. Merlin was so exhausted he wanted to cry. His back was bleeding, the sharp belt leaving hard bruises across his pale skin. The sexual frustration had built up to the point of complete drainage. Merlin’s shivering, shaking body was aching for magic.

He could stop this all for magic.

And then what, get executed? The whole point of this was to protect Arthur.

To stay alive so he could protect Arthur.

Merlin closed his eyes, streaks of tears running down his face. The only thing left to do was wait for the pain to end.

**XXX**

When Merlin unlocked the door and stepped into the chambers he shared with Gaius, he was still trembling from head to toe. He couldn’t conceal it. Shivers wracked his body, and he wondered vaguely if this was what going into shock was. He’d managed to put his shirt back on, but it pressed stickily against the blood on his back. He twisted his neck, wincing, and saw that the blood had seeped through and stained the fabric red.

Gaius was making a potion, and glanced up.

Merlin managed a smile. He knew his eyes were red from crying.

“Merlin,” Gaius said - careful, almost hesitant. “How was it?”

He realized he probably shouldn’t turn his back. If Gaius saw the blood, he’d probably go berserk, and do something insane, something requiring _self-sacrifice._ Merlin was not in the mood to have his mentor and father-figure die on him. Die _for_ him. So Merlin smiled again, and shrugged.

“It was alright. Nothing… I mean, it wasn’t great. But it wasn’t terrible.”

“But what did they do?” Gaius said.

Merlin tried to search for something in his frayed and scrambled mind. “They just…. they told me about the consequences of being gay, and the kind of disease it was… and how we were meant to be with women… and- and - it was mostly an introduction.”

“They didn’t hurt you at all?” Gaius’ voice was light.

“No. I mean, if I talked out of line they did.”

“Lashes?”

“Uh… no. Just… a knock on the head.”

Gaius stared at him, studying his face, and Merlin pursed his quivering lips. “I’m fine.”

They just looked at each other, pin drop quiet. He had a feeling Gaius didn’t really believe him. Merlin shifted on his feet, waiting for Gaius to turn around. The silence held, but then his chair creaked, and Gaius was bent over his potions and healing books again. Breathing softly, Merlin slid past him into his room, making sure to keep his back facing against the wall.

When he was safe in his room, the door closed behind him, Merlin felt his legs give out on him. He slid against the wall, curling into a ball, slow, moaning sobs coming out of his mouth. He pressed his hand against his mouth, trying to keep himself quiet. He was in so much pain. But it was more than that.

Merlin was scared. He was so scared.

The shaking got more prominent, and Merlin whimpered, tears flooding in his eyes once more. He didn’t want to cry. He was too tired to cry. But the tears came anyway, sliding down his face and chin. _You’re okay,_ Merlin told himself, arms wrapped around his knees, back on fire, rocking slightly. _You’re okay. You’re okay._

Breathing hard, Merlin let his eyes glow gold. Magic flooded his body, his veins. The power caressed the bruises on his back, softening them - and temporarily easing the pain. Merlin wanted to get rid of all of them, but he couldn’t very well show up the next day with no lash marks. The knight would never believe it.

When he was done, Merlin staggered to his feet, and slid off his shirt. He managed to put a salve on the lashes by using his magic, allowing it to float and reach areas of his back. After stumbling around the room, wincing and hissing in pain, Merlin settled for wrapping the softest nightclothes he owned over his torso. As the fabric brushed the welts, Merlin bit his lip, pain stinging through. The entire ordeal was taxing, and Merlin snuggled under his blankets, eyelashes curling. He was exhausted. So ready to sleep.

Yet sleep didn’t come. Hours passed. The sun dipped away and the walls of the room grew dark. Merlin pulled at his hair. He clenched his teeth. He was so tired.

But the pain in his back was unbearable, and he couldn’t help but remember everything, again and again.

It had been so humiliating.

When he finally fell to sleep, it was five in the morning, and his eyes were swollen. He briefly thought _thank god I don’t have servant duties tomorrow,_ bittersweet as it was, before zonking out into a better world.

**XXX**

The next day, Merlin gingerly made his way to the dungeons again. He’d slept in until four in the evening. Gaius had checked up on him apparently, because Merlin had woken up to a cup of tea next to his bed and a note that said: _I’ll be gone in the morning. I have some palace duties to attend to._  
****

Merlin had drunk the tea. It had made him feel better, both mentally and physically, and he knew Gaius had secretly tossed in some special herbs.

The man may not have known the extent of what had happened, but he had the ability to read Merlin like a book.

Speaking of books. Merlin flinched as a thick, leather-bound book smacked onto the ground in front of him. It looked overused and worn.

The same knight from before was there. This time he had a medium wooden stick in his hand. Merlin swallowed. The little he had managed to put in his stomach that day rose dangerously close to this throat.

“I hope I’ve put some sense into you,” the knight said. “But we’ve got a lot more to go. I’ve got specific instructions from the King to be _extra_ thorough with you.”

Merlin stared at him, eyes bright blue, steadfast. “Please… can we not… do the same thing as yesterday?” He couldn’t stop himself from trying.

The knight rolled his eyes, a slow sneer forming on his face. “I give the orders. Lucky for you, we’re not going to do the same thing. I don’t want to have you damaged permanently. I’ll give your back time to heal.”

Merlin let out a soft breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

“Hands out.”

It took a moment for the command to filter in. Realization of the next area he was going to target came quickly. His hands would be harder to hide. He frowned, but hesitantly held them out, straightening his lithe fingers. 

_This is for the greater good. This is good. This is for you. To cure you._

_For Arthur._

“Go ahead,” Merlin said, bravery slipping into his voice.     

The knight leaned down toward the book, and picked it up. The front of the book had a label 055060 on it in permanent marker. There were blood stains on the edges of the pages, and Merlin looked away. They’d probably used it before for people like him. The knight turned the first page of the book, and Merlin’s eyes widened.

 It was erotic pictures. Of men.

What the - wasn’t the whole point of this to make him _not_ see this stuff? Wasn’t it forbidden?

Before Merlin had a chance to process this, the stick came down on his hands, burning them. Merlin held back a yelp. He looked up, opening his mouth, about to demand answers, when the knight flipped the page.

It was another one, of a similar thing. Again, the stick came down, before he even had a chance to react. Merlin squeezed his eyes shut, his hands smarting. He lowered his gaze. Maybe he wasn’t supposed to look at it at all? The next time the page turned, Merlin avoided looking at the book.

He stared at the hollow upward ceiling of the dungeon. He wished, for a very, _very_ brief moment, that he were dead. Then he remembered Arthur, and his destiny, and took it back immediately.

And then the stick came down again. Merlin instinctively jerked his hand back. The knight grabbed his wrist. “Keep them out.”

“I don’t understand,” Merlin said.

“Oh, you will.”

Well, if that wasn’t ominous.

It made sense when the picture flipped again. This time, it was an illustration of a nude woman. Merlin tensed, but the stick didn’t come. He waited, but it still didn’t go down.

Oh. _Oh._ Looking at naked women was okay. Men was not. Conditioning. Merlin swallowed.  Right. He was being _conditioned._ Part of him felt he should be grateful, because once this was all over, he would be normal. But as the evening wore thin, and his hands burned with pain, Merlin began to lose it.

He didn’t want this. He didn’t want this _torture_. He’d just wanted to protect Arthur! That’s all he’d ever wanted! Now his hands were bleeding, the lashes sending deep cuts across his tender skin. He’d long since given up crying. It just cost him energy. By the time they were done, his hands were shaking so bad he could hardly open all of the doors that led him back to his chambers.

They’d done the whole book. The whole entire book.

Merlin stumbled into their chambers, hands folded behind his back.

Gaius was there. Merlin groaned internally, closing his eyes. Of course he was. It was late. The sun had gone down.

“Merlin,” Gaius said. He’d been eating dinner for himself, although Merlin saw a bowl of soup and bread left out for him. “You stayed a lot longer this time.”

“It was a longer treatment,” Merlin said, hoping his voice didn’t waver.

“Come and eat,” Gaius said.

He would eat if his hands weren’t in so much pain he wanted to scream. “I will. In a sec.” He tried to make it to his room, but it was a difficult task, because he had to walk sideways to keep his hands out of view. Gaius had an eyebrow raised so high Merlin swore it would fly off his face. This wasn’t good.

Gaius was getting _hardcore_ suspicious.

Merlin ignored the strange look, and rushed into his humble room. This time, he couldn’t waste time crying. Eyes glowing gold, he used a concealing spell - one that made his hands look normal -even if the pain still existed, pulsing in his palms. The magic would wear off in a bit.

When he stepped back out, he put on his cheerful _Merlin is a happy and okay warlock_ smile. Gaius gave him an odd stare as he sat across from him at the dinner table.

“So what did they do today?” Gaius asked.

“Nothing.”

Gaius gave him an _oh really?_ look.

“I mean, nothing _big._ They just showed me this book with erotic pictures of women.”

It wasn’t a complete lie.

Merlin anxiously stared at his soup, and then at the spoon next to it. His hands were in no shape to hold a spoon and function properly with it. Even though they were concealed, they throbbed all over, and Merlin winced as a pang of pain shot through them. Gaius did not miss the wince. Gaius was very observant.

“You know,” Gaius said, offhandedly. “I expected a lot worse than what they’ve been doing.”

Merlin managed an uneasy grin. “Arthur wouldn’t put me through something truly dangerous.”

“I thought you said Arthur had no idea what happened in it?”

Oh. Crap. Right.

“He - he doesn’t, but I mean. He would make sure it wasn’t dangerous.”

It was a bit of a stretch. Even if Arthur _did_ make sure everything Merlin partook in was safe, that would have been the _before_ Arthur. The _after_ Arthur knew Merlin was gay, and didn’t want anything to do with him. He still remembered the touch of their hands as he’d passed over the mace, the look of resentment on Arthur’s face.

It hurt more than the lashes on his back; more than the pain in his hands.

“Are you _sure_ you’re okay?” Gaius asked.

Merlin blinked, realizing he’d let his mask slip off. “I’m fine! I’m just… thinking about Arthur.”

A beat passed. “He’ll come around.”

Merlin didn’t believe him, not for a second, but he nodded anyway, forcing his mouth to quirk at the edge. After some time, Gaius stood up, moving to clear some of the dishes. He glanced back at Merlin, a deep frowned embedded on his aging face. “Merlin?” he asked. “Are you just going to stare at that soup?”

“Maybe.”

They shared a look. Merlin took a deep breath, and reached for the spoon. He dropped it immediately, like it was on fire, and whimpered, wishing the world could swallow him up. It hurt so goddamn bad.    

Gaius gave him a strange, studying look. “They hurt you, didn’t they?”

“No.” Merlin breathed in. “No. I’m fine.”

“You don’t sound fine. You don’t look fine. Nothing about you is fine.”

“I’m _fine._ ” Merlin gritted his teeth. “I just lost my duties as a servant, I’m going to a treatment program that changes who I am, and I’m still hiding my magic! It’s just stress.”

“Stress,” Gaius repeated.

“Stress.”

Merlin thought Gaius was going to start pestering him again, but the man instead chose to retire to his chambers. The sun had gone down, but it was too early to go to sleep. Merlin knew Gaius was giving him privacy. Closing his eyes, Merlin tiredly directed his magic at the spoon, letting it feed him through mid-air.

By the time he was done eating, his eyes had fluttered closed, and he barely made it to his bed before he fell asleep, arms curled protectively around himself.

It was funny, he thought briefly. They called it a treatment program, but it seemed more like they were trying to break him.


End file.
